


Supercut

by cryptidbf, denounce



Category: L.A. Noire
Genre: Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, They love each other so much, artist roy, cole is single
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 04:05:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14324205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptidbf/pseuds/cryptidbf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/denounce/pseuds/denounce
Summary: A collection of moments between Roy Earle and Cole Phelps; a supercut of their relationship.





	Supercut

**Author's Note:**

> This is our apology for chapter 13 of Overworked.
> 
> Oops.
> 
> -oniyen

Right in the middle of a painting, Roy’s phone begins to ring.

Grumbling, he runs his fingers through his hair, accidentally smearing paint in it. He doesn’t like being interrupted, but— he moves to grab the phone. “Roy Earle speaking,” he says, “Who’s calling?”

“Uh—” It’s Cole. He clears his throat, and there’s shifting on the other end. “You know who it is.” There’s a beat of silence, as if he’s unsure of how to continue. “I was wondering if—” He stops, exhaling sharply. “You’re an artist, right?”

Roy hums and shifts to cradle the phone between his ear and shoulder, returning his attention to the canvas. “Yeah,” he says, and he squints for a minute, “Why do you ask?”

Cole is silent for an unbearably long time. There’s the possibility that he’s hung up, but suddenly— “I want to come over and see some of your artwork.”

At that, Roy sputters. “What?” He shakes his head, then, and composes himself. _Relax_. “I mean, if you want, sure. Uh, you know where I live, right?”

“Mhm,” Cole hums, and— he goes quiet. “I’ll see you in a few minutes. You’re not that far from me, surprisingly enough.” He’s about to say something else, but he hesitates, his voice dying in his throat. “...Yeah, I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up.

Roy stares at the phone for a minute before setting it down and breathing in deeply. He rakes his fingers through his hair again, further disheveling it and streaking more paint in the process. His heart is drumming a song against his ribcage. _Relax_. He can’t relax. He glances down at his stained hands. Maybe he should wash up before Cole gets here. Maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe he should—

He’s brought out of his internal argument by knocking. Well, too late for that, then. He practically jumps to his feet and crosses the room, opening the door. There’s Cole, as expected. His heartbeat picks up the pace. “Sorry,” he says, and he gestures to himself, “I know I look like a mess.”

Cole eyes him up and down, and for a second it could be interpreted as appreciative. But his gaze snaps back upwards and he smiles before Roy can give it much thought. “It’s fine,” he says, and he leans over to see around the taller man. “You’re working on a painting right now?”

“I was, yeah,” Roy says, and he moves so Cole can get past him. “Nothing special. Just a landscape for my, uh, mother. She was complaining there was an spot on the wall in the dining room that needed something.”

“That’s awfully nice,” Cole remarks. He takes a moment to stand in the threshold, glancing back at Roy with one brow raised. “I didn’t know you could be so sweet.”

“I have my moments,” Roy says, “And what kind of son would I be if I didn’t show my own mother that I love her?”

Cole hums. “Touché,” he says, and he crosses the room then, stopping to look over the in-progress landscape. It’s an ocean, deep and blue, stormy and tempest-tossed. _Just like Roy’s eyes,_ he notes. The thought brings another smile to his face. “I’m impressed, I must say.” He looks up at Roy— he’s moved to stand next to him. “You’re skilled at what you do.” There’s a pause, and his eyes drop to Roy’s lips in a blink. “Anything you do.”

Roy rubs at the back of his neck, eyes darting around the canvas for a second. He snaps his attention to Cole. “I guess,” he says, “It’s really nothing special, though. Just a hobby.”

“Nothing special?” Cole echoes, tone incredulous. “Roy— look at this,” he says, gesturing to the unfinished painting. His next words are surprisingly _genuine._ “I would buy this for my own home.”

Roy opens his mouth to speak— nothing comes out, but he doesn’t exactly shut it either. He shakes his head and clears his throat. “Well, I’m flattered,” he says, “Means a lot coming from you.”

Cole blinks, canting his head to the side and fixing him with a searching, perhaps _knowing,_ look. “How so?”

Roy raises his eyebrows. He’s speechless again, as if something in his brain tossed out his dictionary. His mouth is suddenly dry and he clears his throat again. “You don’t seem like the type to throw out compliments for just anyone,” he finally manages to choke out, “That’s all.”

Cole hums again, and he turns back to the painting. “I suppose that’s correct,” he says. He goes quiet, hand to his chin in thought as he takes in all that he can of the surprisingly _masterful_ artwork before him. “Is there anything else you can show me?” He glances up at Roy, then. There’s something almost suggestive behind his tone, and it isn’t clear whether or not it’s on purpose.

Inhaling sharply, Roy licks his lips. “Maybe,” he says, “Depends on what you want to see.”

“Anything,” Cole says, and— God, his eyes actually dip _lower,_ far too low to be appropriate. He’s moved just a bit closer to Roy, letting his gaze drag across the taller man’s form before settling back on his face.

“Anything?” Roy parrots, and despite the warning bells ringing in his head, he takes a step closer, too. His next words are _vaguely_ flirty. Only vaguely. “You’ve got to give me more to go off of here, Cole.”

An uncharacteristically devious grin on his face, Cole reaches up to cup Roy’s face. He breathes out amusedly through his nose, the mischief in his smile melting into adoration. “Good God, you’re beautiful,” is all he has to say before he’s standing on his toes and closing the gap between their lips in one slow, gentle movement.

Roy’s quick to notice that he tastes of wine and pulls back slightly. “Are you drunk right now?”

“Maybe,” Cole mumbles, his warm breath tingling on Roy’s lips. His hand is yet to leave his face, and he goes so far as to rub softly with his thumb. “Does it matter?”

“Uh, yeah, just a bit,” Roy says, and his tone is dry. He brushes a few loose strands of hair away. “If we’re going to do anything, I’d prefer it’d be while you’re sober. Wouldn’t be right, otherwise.”

At that, Cole’s expression falters. He inhales sharply— exhales. “I can’t fault you for that,” he says, averting his gaze. “I’ve been—” He pauses to laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve been thinking of this for a long time. I’ve been _wanting_ this for a long time.”

“Oh,” Roy breathes out. His face is a bright red— he’s _never_ like this. “You’ve, uh, never been that obvious about it.”

Cole lets out another laugh. “I thought I was being _too_ obvious,” he says, leaning in to rest his forehead against Roy’s. “None of those small touches were _friendly._ ”

Roy hums. “I thought they were,” he says, “I mean, what else could I have assumed? I didn’t exactly _know_ you swung this way.”

Cole gives a small shrug. “It’s why I separated from Marie,” he says, his eyes fluttering shut. “I realized it during the war.” There’s a long silence, and— “Can I stay with you tonight?” He opens his eyes then, icy blue staring right into deep blue. “I drove here, and I think I may have taken out one of my mirrors on the way.”

Roy stares at him for a minute. Then, he snorts. It’s not long before he’s completely dissolved into laughter. “Yeah, no, I don’t trust you driving _sober,_ much less drunk,” he says, “Besides, I don’t think I can exactly kick you out now that everything’s out in the open.”

Cole raises his eyebrows, and in that small moment he looks shockingly innocent. “Hold on— does that mean you feel the same way?”

“And here I thought _I_ was being the obvious one now,” Roy snarks, “Of course I do, Cole. I wouldn’t have said any of that if I didn’t.” He moves to press a kiss to Cole’s forehead. “We can share my bed, but only if it’s okay with you.”

Cole lets his eyes slip shut at the kiss to his forehead, smiling contentedly. “I’d like that,” he says, exhaling a pleased sigh. “I’d like that more than you think.”

“Then,” Roy says, “Let’s go to bed. I can finish painting later.”

 

* * *

 

When Cole wakes up at exactly six-thirty in the morning, he doesn’t know what to expect.

What he _does_ know, though, is that this isn’t his bed. This isn’t his room, not even his couch. And— that warm body behind him, that face pressed into the back of his head… that definitely isn’t normal. Carefully, he cranes his neck to look over his shoulder, his face paling at the sight of Roy Earle.

He quickly returns to his previous position, staring at the wall with wide eyes and suddenly _very_ pink cheeks. _Oh my God._ Fear spikes in his heart. _Did we…?_ He can’t finish the thought, his blush growing deeper and even more intense. He doesn’t remember _anything_ from last night. Okay, he _might_ remember chugging the last bottle of wine in his apartment, but past that? Absolutely nothing.

Roy shifts beside him, mumbling slightly and burying his face further into Cole’s hair. Then, voice muffled, he asks, “Are you awake?”

Cole inhales sharply, unable to keep himself from tensing up. “Yes,” he says, immediately twisting around to face Roy. “Alright, what happened last night? Spare no details.” There’s an indescribably large amount of _panic_ in his voice.

“Hey, relax,” Roy says, tone as soothing as it can be, “Nothing like _that_ happened. You called me asking if you could come over to see my work and— I mean, you _did_ kiss me, but as soon as I realized you were drunk, I pushed you away.” He moves to brush Cole’s hair out of his face. “We might’ve confessed some things, though. _Apparently,_ you’ve been thinking about me for a while. Wanna attest to that claim sober?”

Cole opens his mouth to respond— shuts it. That burning in his cheeks has spread to his ears, now. “I— I can’t— _deny_ what I said,” he says, sentence awkward and choppy, “I just wish I could have said it in a clear state of mind.” He looks away, eyes dropping to the pillow.

Roy hums. “Past is in the past,” he says, “And maybe this is wishful thinking, but I’m sure you’ll have plenty of more chances to tell me in the future.”

Cole goes suspiciously quiet, lips pursed in thought. Then, his eyes snap back to Roy’s face. “Lie on your back,” he says, gaze intense and piercing.

At that, Roy raises his eyebrows, but does as told without a word. Immediately Cole moves on top of him, effectively straddling his hips as he leans in to smash their lips together. Roy seems mildly surprised, but he wastes no time in reciprocating, hands going to Cole’s own hips. A pleased noise rises from Cole’s throat in response, and he can’t hold himself back from rolling his hips. He’s completely open for business— he even parts his lips to allow Roy’s tongue into his mouth. Roy is more than happy to comply, deepening the kiss and moving one hand up into Cole’s hair, tugging slightly.

Cole pulls away with a sharp moan, exhaling a shuddering breath. “You— have a strong grip,” is all he manages to get out, breathing out a shaky chuckle.

His trademark smirk in place, Roy tugs at his hair again. All that does is get another moan from Cole. “I didn’t take you as the type of person who’s into that kind of thing,” he says, “Guess I’ve got a lot to learn.”

Cole grins down at him. “There’s quite a few things you don’t know about me,” he says, and he pauses to press his hips further down into Roy’s, going so far as to bite his lip at the brush of contact. “My interests making up most of them.”

Despite himself, Roy lets out a low groan. Just like that, his pants are tighter than they were before. “I’m more than happy to figure them all out,” he says, almost breathlessly as his grip on Cole’s hair increases, “ _More_ than.”

Cole’s about to respond, but when he moves again, his mind is overtaken by a sudden realization. “My _God,_ ” he says, glancing down to where their hips meet. “I was always hoping, but— I never imagined you’d be so… _gifted._ ” He can’t help but breathe a soft laugh, his eyes returning to Roy’s face.

There’s that smirk again. “Guess there’s a lot you’ve got to learn about me, too,” Roy says. “As it is, I’m sure you’ll find out I’m gifted in _multiple_ ways.”

Cole laughs again— it’s awfully loving, despite how they are right now. He brushes a few strands of hair out of Roy’s face, leaning down so their lips are merely inches away. “Show me,” he murmurs.

“Gladly,” Roy says, voice low and rough. With that said, he captures Cole’s lips in his once more.


End file.
